Paxton’s brow furrows as he takes in what Blake’s saying, and then his face lights up. “Flip fuck?”
“Why not?” Blake agrees with a shrug.
“Why not, indeed,” Paxton replies, a devious smirk spreading across his face. “Race you to the shower.” Before Blake can so much as blink, Pax is hitting the drain for the tub and hopping out, skidding dangerously on wet feet to grab lube from one of the drawers in the vanity Rachel pointed out earlier. He’s got the shower on and is under the spray before Blake even gets one foot firmly onto the shag carpet next to the bath.
“I love this idea,” Pax calls to him over the running water. “You’re brilliant. Beauty and brains, what are the odds?”
“If you think that’s impressive, you should see me order parts for vintage cars,” Blake tells him. He slips into the shower behind Pax and making at least a token attempt to pretend he’s going to wash his hair or something. “Lots of fancy-soundingnames, have to know all kinds of part numbers off the top of your head.Verysexy.”
Paxton grins up at him before pulling him close and into another stupid-hot kiss. Paxknowshow to kiss, is so good at it Blake honestly wouldn’t mind if that was all they could do tonight. He sinks into Pax’s warm embrace, wishes he could tell Pax how much he likes kissing him without sounding like a tool. It’s perfect — just enough tongue licking against his own, the perfect blend of nipping and sucking and lingering presses that take Blake’s breath away.
“Yeah, Pax,” is what makes it out of his mouth, breathless and goofy, but Blake supposes it’s better than nothing.
The heat between them escalates quickly now that they have a known destination, all worry about the rules and what they should or shouldn’t be doing to break them left completely behind. It’s new and it’s exciting, and Blake kind of feels like a teenager stumbling into his first time. Thing is, Blake has felt Pax hard in his pants plenty of times and even while lying next to him in bed, but it’s different like this.
Now, there’s nothing between them save for water and friction, and no one to stop them or get in their way.
“Pax,”Blake groans, “Pax, I can’t believe—”
“I know,” Pax replies, pulling back from where he’s been mouthing at Blake’s jaw to blink up at him warmly, eyes bright. It makes Blake feel a little less silly for being sappy and overly enthusiastic about this whole thing himself. Makes him warwith dueling impulses to either shove Pax down and ravage him right there, or spread him out and take his time delicately discovering every last inch of skin.
A happy compromise, maybe, which Pax essentially makes for him when he dives back in to continue their make-out session. This time, it’s with his long, capable fingers wrapped determinedly around Blake’s cock and stroking.
“I like the way you feel in my hand,” Pax purrs. “I knew that I would.”
The height difference between them is perfect. Those two inches Blake has on Pax give himjustthe smallest bit of leverage he needs to really slot their bodies together when he gets Pax backed up against the tile. Pax seems to dig it too, from the way he holds onto the back of Blake’s neck and grinds up against him, little grunts of satisfaction escaping from his lips as he rocks his hips. He’s fluid, and graceful — everything Blake fantasized he would be.
Blake is intoxicated by him.
The kisses he sucks from Pax’s face and shoulders, over his sharp jaw and down his neck, taste of water and Pax’s clean skin. The stubble on Pax’s face burns Blake’s cheeks, and he can’t wait to feel it on the sensitive skin of his thighs. Can’t wait to feel Pax fordays,long after this night is over.
And still, he thinks: it’s just sex, isn’t it? It’s just two bodies rubbing together. Flesh and blood and muscle and bone;different shapes and sizes and some with varying parts, but all more or less the same in the dark.
Blake has done this more times than he likes to admit anymore; been with hundreds of people on hundreds of different nights, mornings, afternoons. In bar bathrooms and on soft beds, under the spray of showers and on couches and hardwood floors and splayed over kitchen counters. Men, women, people who didn’t identify as either — Blake’s never been picky, has seen and been with, kissed, licked, and fucked it all.
So touching Paxshouldbe like all those other times, each and every one of those experiences. Pax is a man, he has a body, a dick like Blake’s. Sensitive spots just beneath his ear and around his hip bones that make him shudder when someone caresses or tongues at the skin there. Blood pumping through his veins, making him hard, driving him to getoff,to get off withBlake.
It’s not, though — it’s not the same, and Blake already knew that, should have expected it, but he didn’t. It takes him by surprise, the emotion he feels being curled into Pax’s arms, the way he bends and breaks havingPaxwrapped up inhis. Thepullbetween their bodies, theneedto get and stay as close to Paxton as possible, to kiss and consume, toshow himwhat being genuinely wanted is like.
Blake’s been aroused, he’s beenhungrymany, many times in his life.
It’s never been like this.
The way that he can’t wait to see what Pax does next, how Pax’s sweet touches are equally as enticing and coveted as his dirty ones. The realization that if Pax wanted to, Blake really would havenoproblem stopping, would be content just to hold and kiss the guy and enjoy being near him for the rest of the night.
That’s such a shocking discovery in his own mind that Blake almost stops the proceedings just to share it, though he manages to pull those reigns in at the last second. Instead of interrupting, he throws himself wholeheartedly into relishing every minute with Pax. Who knows if they’ll have another chance like this before their time at the Retreat is over?
While Blake’s busy having epiphanies, Pax is hard at work too, slicking his fingers up with lube and teasing their way in between Blake’s cheeks. Brought back into the moment by Pax’s finger finding its way into his ass, Blake follows suit. He kisses Pax hard under the spray of the shower as he squeezes one of Pax’s cheeks, working a finger of his own into Pax’s hole.
The action drives Pax to grind harder against him with a particularly wanton moan that Blake is all too happy to swallow.
“More,” Pax demands.
Blake nods, chases Pax’s open mouth moving against his own. “Me too,” he says, spreading his feet a little wider, and Pax adds a second finger to his ministrations without hesitation.
For all the things Blake has done, he hasn’t donethis,hasn’t been with that many men who were all that interested inswitching. The “get in, get off, get gone” crowd didn’t tend to be one for explicit communication, more just stereotypes that no one questioned translating over into the bedroom.
And that’s always been fine with Blake — he’ll bend over or bend someone over, no problem, butthis —Pax is already blasting all of his “norms” for sex right out of the water.
